THE    PIONEERS 


POETIC  DRAMA  IN  TffO  SCENES 


BY 


JAMES    OPPENHEIM 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


GIFT  OF 

i'S.  Ben  B.  Linc'sey 


ft 


THE    PIONEERS 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR 

WILD  OATS 

DOCTOR  RAST 

MONDAY  MORNING  AND  OTHER  POEMS 


THE  PIONEERS 

A  POETIC  DRAMA  IN  TWO  SCENES 


BY 

JAMES    OPPENHEIM 


NEW   YORK 

B.  W.    HUEBSCH 

1910 


COFYUCUT.  1910.  BY  B.  W.  HUBBSCH 


All  rights  reserved 


This  play  has  been  copyrighted  and  published  simultaneously  in 
the  United  States  and  Great  Britain.  All  acting  and  reading  rights, 
both  professional  and  amateur,  are  reserved  in  the  United  States, 
Great  Britain,  and  countries  of  the  Copyright  Union.  Performances 
forbidden  and  right  of  representation  reserved.  Application  for  the 
right  of  performing  or  reading  the  play  must  be  made  to  B.  W. 
Huebsch.  Any  piracy  or  infringement  will  be  prosecuted  in  accord 
ance  with  the  penalties  provided  by  Sec.  4966.  U.  S.  Revised  Statutes. 
Title  60.  Chap.  3. 


PRINTED  IN  U.  S.  A. 


P5 

3S21 


TO 

THE    FAMILY 

LAMER  CAMP 


45 


A   WORD 

THIS  little  play  had  its  first  production  at  Lanier 
Camp  on  the  banks  of  the  Piscataqua,  Eliot, 
Maine,  at  8  o'clock  of  a  dark  August  night. 
Under  windy  boughs  and  back  of  the  shadows 
of  a  camp-fire  several  hundred  people  of  the 
countryside,  bewitched  by  the  wind,  the  flames, 
and  the  night,  were  kind  to  the  unprofessional 
players  and  the  little  play. 

A  native  poetic  drama  which  shall  go  straight 
home  to  the  people  of  America  rather  than  to  a 
fit  few  in  a  private  theater  is  the  dream  of  the 
young  writers  of  to-day.  It  is  my  dream  too. 
Hence,  what  a  rich  joy  it  was  to  throw  a  plain 
tale  of  '49  into  simple  rhythm  and  find  that  the 
folk  of  southern  Maine  were  stirred  to  tears. 
It  meant,  not  that  the  play  was  great,  but  that 
America  is  hungry  for  expression,  and  even  an 
inadequate  attempt,  if  sincere,  is  worth  making. 

And  it  meant  something  else.  It  meant  that 
7 


8  A  WORD 

the  little  company  of  men  and  girls  and  boys 
who  gave  the  play  threw  themselves  so  deeply 
into  their  parts  that  their  very  earnestness  and 
fire  evoked  something  precious  in  the  audience. 
The  names  of  those  who  lifted  the  text  to  reality 
belong  to  this  book,  and  I  give  them. 


THE    CAST 

JOHN  HOWARD Sidney  Lanier,  Jr. 

MARGARET Barbara  Laighton 

DAVID  MORROW Peter  W.  Dykema 

CYNTHIA  BURNS Geraldine  Slater 

EAGLE-TALON Bernard  Sexton 

CHADWICK Bruce  Hoggson 

TOM Trumball  Thomas 

(August  26,  1910) 


CHARACTERS 

JOHN  HOWARD,  the  Leader — a  man  of  about  forty-jive, 
tall,  gentle,  executive,  and  full  of  the  true  Jire  of 
powet —  an  outdoor  man. 

MARGARET,  his  daughter — a  young  woman,  about 
twenty-one,  a  fine  blend  of  the  old  and  new  type  of 
woman,  graceful,  beautiful,  but  free  and  frank  and 
companionable;  very  much  like  her  father,  but  with 
deeper  power  of  intuition  —  an  outdoor  woman. 

DAVID  MORROW,  a  young  man  with  the  party  —  about 
twenty-five,  passionately  egoistic,  wedded  to  the  con 
ventional,  a  keen  individualist,  full  of  misdirected 
power,  and  yet  overrunning  with  the  possibilities  of 
youth. 

CYNTHIA  BURNS  —  an  unmarried  woman  of  middle  age, 
timid,  home-bred,  but  following  the  party  through 
her  great  personal  love  for  MARGARET. 

CHADWICK,  the  sentinel — a  bluff,  jovial  man,  unafraid 
of  anything,  and  ready  for  any  adventure,  loyal  and 
steadfast. 

9 


10  CHARACTERS 

TOM,  one  of  the  younger  men ;  a  pleasant ',  dreamy  fellow, 
who  swears  by  his  leader. 

EAGLE-TALON,  an  Indian  — large,   swift,  picturesque, 
slow  and  passionate  in  his  speech. 

MEN,  WOMEN,  AND  CHILDREN 


SCENE 

The  Night's  Rest,  in  and  about  a  grove  on  the  West 
ern  Prairies.  Trees  about,  in  the  center  a  camp-fire. 
Back  in  the  shadows  a  large,  white-hooded  schooner- 
wagon.  Guns  against  a  tree;  lantern  on  wagon.  A 
moonlight  summer's  night.  The  great  silence  of  the  plains ; 
not  even  the  cry  of  the  coyote  heard;  only  the  crackling 
of  the  fire  and  the  sound  of  the  wind  in  the  trees.  Tear, 
about  1850. 


THE    PIONEERS 

A  POETIC  DRAMA  IN  TWO  SCENES 

As  action  starts  scene  is  empty.     Enter  PRO 
LOGUE,  with  hand  raised  for  silence. 

PROLOGUE 

Our  fire  paints  the  dark  with  jumping  gold, 
The  bark  of  trees  shows  each  black  wrinkle, 

leaves 
Sway  sharp,  and  through  the  shadow-swallowed 

tree-tops 

The  low  nocturnal  music  of  the  wind 
Makes  magic  of  the  vast  night.     Hark!     O 

hark! 

[  Pauses,  that  audience  may  listen} 

Spirit  of  the  wind!    Spirit  of  the  rising  moon! 
Night-spirit!     Earth-spirit!      I    that   lift  my 

voice 

I,  too,  am  a  spirit — you  are  brothers  all 
13 


14  THE  PIONEERS 

That  sing  and  sigh  and   gleam  and  breathe 

about  me! 

I  charge  you,  mighty  spirits,  hear  of  me! 
For  I  am  that  human  spirit  that  dares  all, 
Rides  you,  O  Wind,  lights  you,  O  Night,  and 

makes 

Of  you,  O  Earth,  my  home,  my  tool,  my  life. 
What  if  you  wrought  me?  What  if  your  mighty 

souls 

Gave  birth  to  me?     I,  too,  give  birth;  I,  too, 
Create:  and  all  my  ages  are 
A  pushing  forward,  hand  in  hand  with  nature, 
And  slow  creation  of  a  greater  Earth. 
From  land  to  land  through  age  on  age  I  led, 
Till  now  my  new  scene  is — America; 
My  latest,  greatest  venture.    To  this  coast 
The  world  sends  mightiest  dreamers,  hardiest 

toilers, 

Her  pioneers,  and  here  by  weltering  millions 
They  build  a  life  that  dares  new  heights,  new 

heavens, 

Fired  with  democracy,  till  now  at  last 
I  am  the  Spirit  of  America! 

[A  pause] 

That  spirit  was  in  the  Pilgrims  when  they 
knelt 


THE  PIONEERS  15 

On  Plymouth  Rock;  and  in  the  Puritans 
Working  their  clearings  in  the  wilderness; 
And  with  the  men  that  battled  on  Bunker  Hill; 
And  with  the  vast  migration  that  swung  tides 
Of  people  through  the  unadventured  West; 
That  spirit  rose  like  storm  and  shook  the  world 
Gigantically  in  our  home-spun  Lincoln — 
That  spirit  lives  to-day:   is  here  to-night: 
For  America  is  not  the  magic  scenery 
Washed  by  the  sunrise  and  the  sunset  seas, 
No,  nor  yet  even  the  prairies  dark  with  herds, 
Or  land-lakes  of  the  Western  grain :  nor  yet 
Wonder-cities  white-towered,  nor  the  peaks 
Bursting  with  metals,  nor  the  smoky  mills — 
America  is  you  and  you  and  I. 

[Pause] 

And  it  is  something  else.     It  is  the  marriage 
Of  classic  Europe  with  her  dream-stuffed  brain, 
Her  nimble  fingers  and  her  indoor  art, 
To  Indian,  outdoor,  tan-faced,  native,  wild 
America:  the  wigwam  drips  with  rain, 
The  tasseled  corn  is  blown  with  the  wet  wind, 
Mist  scarfs  the   mountain-brow,  the  hunting 

trail 

Runs  by  gray  pools  in  the  splattering  wilder 
ness, 


16  THE  PIONEERS 

And  the  human  being  is  like  a  breath  of  the 

Earth, 
Wild  with  the  power  that  swims  in  the  soil 

and  the  air, 
Panting  with  life  and  with  love  and  desire  to 

labor, 

His  nostrils  quivering  as  he  scents  the  ground. 
Such,  the  American:  the  intricate  thinker, 
The  lover  and  brother,  and  the  pioneer 
With  that  feel  of  Earth  of  him  inured  to  the 
open. 

[During  the  following  passage  all  the 
characters  enter,  two  or  three  at  a  time, 
and  group  themselves  about  the  camp-firi\ 

Behold  then  just  such  real  Americans 
Stealing  about  this  camp-fire,  for  our  scene 
Moves  to  the  Western  prairie,  and  the  wind 
Whispers  two  thousand  miles  from  here,  and 

the  dark, 

Painted  with  jumping  gold,  is  full  of  danger; 
For  the  pioneers,  seeking  the  manless  West, 
Are  lonely  on  the  limitless,  moonlit  plains, 
And  the  Indians  circle  them.    Hark!  now  they 

lift 
Their  voices  in  song  to  drown  out  thoughts  of 

peril, 


THE  PIONEERS  17 


And  the  sentinel,  who  paces  up  and  down, 
Shouts  out:  "All's  well!" — O  great  America, 
This  little  band  is  clearing  out  a  way 
For  us  that  follow.    Come,  O  friends,  the  Play ! 


SCENE    I 


SCENE   I 

As  PROLOGUE  goes  out,  TOM,  standing,  strums 
'  'Home,  Sweet  Home, ' '  on  the  mandolin.  All  join 
softly  in  the  chorus.  At  the  end  of  song  a  deep  pause, 
during  which  the  sentinel  outside  cries  twice:  "All's 
well— All's  well—" 

HOWARD 

Stir  up  the  fire,  Tom,  make  it  shoot  sparks, 

blaze  big, 

For  in  this  large  room  of  the  open  Earth 
Under  the  lifting  roof  of  all  the  stars, 
We  must  smell  the  good  wood-smoke  of  our 

own  hearth. 

We  are  not  lonely,  we,  so  close  to  the  ground, 
Where  the  wild  tang  and  flavor  of  the  Earth 
Absorb  us  in  the  Mother.    All  day  long 
We  sweated  in  the  sun;  now,  tired  out, 
The  bones  of  our  bodies  sweet  with  a  day's 

work  done, 
We  nestle  close  to  the  rich  restful  soil. 

[Pause] 
21 


22  THE  PIONEERS 


MARGARET 

[close  to  her  father,  tenderly] 
Father,  what  is  it? 

HOWARD 
[taking  her  hand~\ 

What  is  what,  dear  Meg? 

MARGARET 
The  trouble. 

HOWARD 
Trouble?  Nothing. 

MARGARET 

But  there  is: 
I  feel  it  in  your  voice.    Come,  out  with  it! 

HOWARD 

If  it's  a  trouble,  it's  a  trouble  shared, 
And  so,  no  trouble:  all  so  close  together, 
We  comrades  like  a  dot  on  the  vast  prairies, 
Here,  in  the  midst  of  danger,  life  is  sweet. 
What  do  we  lack? 

MARGARET 

Ah,  father,  I  \u\o\\ you: 
You  cannot  put  me  off!   Your  heart  is  troubled. 


THE  PIONEERS  23 

HOWARD 

[smilingly] 

Well,  so  it  is:  but  a  most  loving  trouble. 
In  truth,  the  song  we  sang  carried  me  home, 
Home,  where  all  life  was  peace.     [Rises  with 
MARGARET] 

[A  silence] 

TOM 

How  far  away 

New  England  is;  the  rough  coast  and  the  sea, 
And  the  apple-heavy  orchards. 

CYNTHIA 

And  the  homes, 

Whitewashed  and  clean,  set  among  quiet  pas 
tures. 

HOWARD 

The  long,  long  Sabbaths  and  the  sunny  morns 
We  swung  the  scythe  in  the  meadows.     Wheat 

and  corn — 

I  can  see  acres  blooming.    Oh,  New  England, 
You  are  two  thousand  miles  across  the  world. 

TOM 

Two  thousand  miles — have  we  trudged  out  so 
far? 


24  THE  PIONEERS 

HOWARD 

Yes,    and   a   thousand    miles    must   still    be 

trudged — 
Farther  and  farther,  as  nearer  and  nearer  we 

draw, 
The  Far  West  vanishes. 

SEVERAL 
[like  echoes'] 

Vanishes — vanishes.     It  vanishes. 
[A  deep  pause} 

MARGARET 
[close  to  her  father] 

And  yet,  father,  had  you  to  do  it  again, 
You'd  do  just  this. 

HOWARD 

[shaking  off  his  sadness"] 

Yes,  though  it  were 
Ten  thousand  miles:  come,  Tom,  strike  up 

a  tune 

That  sings  the  future,  not  the  past,  and  stirs 
Our  hearts  to  courage.     [Seats  himself} 


THE  PIONEERS  25 

SENTINEL 

[outside] 
All's  well! 

[All  listen] 

[Enter  CHADWICK,  the  sentinel,  armed] 

CHADWICK 
[jovially] 

Friends,  all  is  well.     Gazing   out  under  the 

moon 

I  saw  the  whole  huge  circle  of  the  horizon 
One  emptiness  of  moonlight;  nothing  stirs; 
That  rumor  of  the  Indians  we  heard 
As  we  went  through  the  ford,  was  but  false 

news; 

And  we  may  sleep  to-night.  There's  not  a  fleck 
Of  black  from  here  to  the  rim  of  the  starry  skies; 
No,  not  a  stir.  [Goes  out] 

TOM 

[slowly] 
Vast  is  the  prairie. 

CYNTHIA 

And  still — 
Listen !  What  a  hushi 

[Silence] 


26  THE  PIONEERS 

HOWARD 

None  but  the  savage  ever 
Has  set  foot  here.    The  Earth  is  as  the  ages 
Created  it:  primordeal,  fresh  and  free. 
How  good  to  be  the  first  to  dare  this  land! 
How  glad  I  am  we  came!     What's  the  man 

worth 

Who  does  not  dare?    What  manly  spirit  ever 
Refused  to  pioneer? 

DAVID 

[rising,  stepping  forward,  unable  to  restrain 
himself] 

I  am  that  man. 

John  Howard,  I  have  something  on  my  mind 
That  I  can  bear  no  longer.    The  time's  come 
To  speak  what  smothers  in  my  breast,  and  say 
The  worst. 

[All  look  up,  amazed,  though  some  with 
quick  appreciation  and  sympathy] 

HOWARD 
[gently] 
Why,  David,  speak,  that's  the  man's  way. 


THE  PIONEERS  27 

DAVID 

[bursting  out] 

Why  are  we  here?    This  senseless,  useless  jour 
ney? 

HOWARD 
[still  gently] 
Do  you  ask  that,  after  two  thousand  miles? 

DAVID 

[storming] 

I  can  hold  it  back  no  longer.     For  my  own 

reasons 

I  followed  you:  and  I've  not  murmured  once 
As  all  the  long  day  hand-to-hand  with  the  sun 
I  whipped  the  dogged  horses,  set  my  heels 
Deep  in  the  sand  and  tugged  at  the  creaking 

reins; 

When  I  went  thirsty,  I  have  said  nothing  of  it; 
When  I  went  hungry,  not  one  word,  and  when 
I  limped  with  swollen  foot,  not  once  I  cursed. 
But  now  I  can  bear  it  no  longer:  out  with  it! 
Why,  in  the  name  of  all  that's  possible 
Are  we  on  this  fool's  errand?    If  some  night 
The  red  men  round  us  up,  and  shoot  us  like 
is 


28  THE  PIONEERS 

Our  blood  is  on  your  head.  Back  in  the  East 
I  told  you  so,  but  you — turned  to  the  women, 
Spoke  of  some  vision,  reached  their  hearts  with 

words, 
And  stopped  your  ears  to  the  facts.    By  heaven, 

Howard, 

What  right  had  you  to  lead  these  little  children 
On  a  mad  quest  in  a  bare  desert,  where  death 
Circles  our  footsteps?     El  Dorado?     Tell 
That  tale  to  women! 

HOWARD 

[gently'] 

Many  have  eyes,  David, 
And  yet  they  will  not  see. 

DAVID 
[angrily] 

See  what?     I  see 

Daylong  the  red  and  rolling  prairie  stretch 
Under  the  cruel  circle  of  the  sky. 
Up  from  the  East  the  swollen  copper  sun 
Lifts  through  a  copper  smoke,  and  the  burnt 

air 

Palpitates,  and  up  and  over  the  hillocks 
The  long  white  line  of  our  schooner-wagons 
Creeps  like  a  worm  from  one  huge  sky-cocoon 


THE  PIONEERS  29 

Into  another,  and  on  those  moving  floors 
The  worried  women  sink  and  the  children  cry 
Not  knowing  what  ails  them.     This  I  see,  and 

more. 

I  see  behind  each  bush  an  Indian. 
Perhaps  even  now  somewhere  are  galloping 

horses 
And  the  armed  braves  chanting  as  they  race 

with  the  moon. 

Silently  from  afar  they  come;  they  coil 
Like  a  snake  about  us,  and  we  die  the  death 

Horribly. 

[Pauses] 

In  this  place  of  empty  silence 
What  help  is  there? 

HOWARD 
[gently] 

Why,  in  ourselves,  as  ever. 

DAVID 

But  where 's  the  end?     Each  day's  without  an 

end. 
We  have  tramped  three  months  and  more.    For 

what?    A  dream. 

[His  voice  breaks] 


30  THE  PIONEERS 

Better  our  narrow  acres  in  New  England, 
Green,  sweet  with  merciful  rains,  and  the  great 

sea 
Pounding  on  the  rocks  of  the  beach.     Our 

dooryards  bloomed 
With   corn  and   children's   faces.      Life    was 

good. 

But  you  uprooted  us.     Now  must  you  answer 
For  our  agony. 

[Pauses} 

HOWARD 
[rising,  putting  his  hands  on  DAVID'S  shoulders] 

I  cannot  answer. — 

But  now  that  you  have  spoken,  David,  boy, 
And  all's  cleaned  out  within,  do  you  think  it 

well 

To  talk  of  danger  while  we  are  in  danger? 
We  are  here;  we  cannot  escape;  what  help  is  it 
To  pour  out  all  these  fears? 

DAVID 

[hanging  his  head  ] 

I — had  to  speak. 

[Goes  off  in  the  shadows'] 


THE  PIONEERS  31 

HOWARD 

Come  all,  you  know  that  Mary's  son  is  ill, 
Down  in  the  third  large  wagon.    Let  us  go, 
And  smooth  the  lad's  night-rest. 

CYNTHIA 

Yes,  let  us  go. 

[////  go,   save    DAVID,    who    touches 
MARGARET'S  arm] 

DAVID 

I  want  to  see  you,  Margaret. 

MARGARET 

See  me,  David? 

[She  lingers,  and  he  does  not  speak  till 
all  are  gone.     Then  he  comes  close] 

DAVID 

The  things  I  said  to-night — 

MARGARET 
[unutterably  sad  ] 

Yes,  what  of  them  ? 

DAVID 
I  had  to  sav  them. 


32  THE  PIONEERS 

MARGARET 

Yes,  you  had  to  say  them. 

DAVID 

I'm  much  ashamed — 

MARGARET 
You  ought  to  be  ashamed. 

DAVID 

[low] 
But  I  was  not  thinking  solely  of  myself — 

MARGARET 
Not  solely? 

DAVID 

No  [hesitates].  Shall  I  tell  you,  Margaret, 
Why  I  have  come  here? 

MARGARET 

Is  it  a  thing  to  say, 


Or  better  left  unsaid? 


DAVID 

I  must  speak  out. 


THE  PIONEERS  33 

MARGARET 

You  have  before — but  tell  me,  why  have  you 
come? 

DAVID 

[bursting  out] 

You — Margaret — you,  you  are  the  reason,  you. 

MARGARET 
[shrinking] 

It  had  been  better  never  to  have  said  this. 
[Starts  to  go] 

DAVID 

[sharply} 

You  must  not  go.     I  have  come  two  thousand 

miles, 

Dared  all  for  you.     Is  this  my  answer  then? 
No  love  for  me? 

MARGARET 
[controlling  herself] 

Oh,  David,  do  not  ask  me; 
I  will  not  trust  a  love  I  can't  respect. 
No,  no,  your  place  is  in  the  East  where  women 


34  THE  PIONEERS 

Are  kitchen-things,  and  men  are  hard  and  keen, 
Shrewd  Yankees.     Not  for  you  the  New  Great 
West! 

DAVID 

[wooingly] 

Oh,  but  I  know  what  is  in  your  heart — to-night 
In  the  soft  hush  of  this  grove  and  under  moon 
light 

Your  heart  cries  out  that  you  and  I  were  born 
For  one  another. 

MARGARET 
[struggling] 

David!    [A pause]    I'll  use 

plain  words: 
Do  you  think  that  you  who  cannot  grasp  the 

greatness 

Of  my  own  father,  ever  will  understand  me? 
I'm  not  so  keen  for  marriage — marriage,  David, 
Is  not  the  all  of  woman's  life,  and  better 
No  marriage  than  wrong  marriage.     For  there 

comes 

Upon  the  earth  a  newer  kind  of  woman, 
And  there  must  come  a  newer  kind  of  man 
To  be  that  woman's  mate. 


THE  PIONEERS  35 

DAVID 
[muttering] 

A  woman's  a  woman. 

MARGARET 

No,  more  than  that,  she  is  a  human  being — 
And  I  can  see  her  as  I  would  have  her,  David: 
Athletic,  sinewy,  sun-tanned  she  must  be, 
Able  to  run,  dive,  lift,  and  leap  the  hurdle, 
Free  in  her  actions,  with  the  world  to  range, 
And  yet  a  mother  beautiful,  a  wife 
Gentle  and  sweet;  a  being  who  takes  the  dust, 
The  bread-things  and  the  broom-things,  makes 

of  them 

Vital  adventures.  This  is  my  comrade  woman. 
She  must  be  man  so  far  as  freedom  goes, 
And  yet  all  wrought  of  the  eternal  woman, 
The  graceful  beauty  and  the  lovely  manner. 
But  a  new  manhood  must  arise  to  mate  her, 
A  manhood  as  heroic  as  the  old, 
Unafraid  of  roughness,  sweat  and  life's  fine 

dangers, 
Meeting  the  whole  thick  fighting  world  in  the 

open, 

Light-hearted,  joyous,  hardy — yet,  and  yet, 
Unafraid  also  of  the  woman-things — 


36  THE  PIONEERS 

Quite  unashamed  of  tenderness  and  goodness, 
With  a  heart  large  enough  to  house  all  moods 
Of  beauty  and  music  and  the  old  chivalry. 
He  must  be  woman  so  far  as  sweetness  goes, 
And  yet  all  wrought  of  the  eternal  man, 
The  creative  worker  and  thewoman's  protector: 
These  are   my  man   and   woman.        [Pause] 

David,  1 
Would  hurt  no  heart,  least  of  all  yours.     Oh, 

rather 

I'd  hurt  myself — rather  I'd  scold  myself — 
Knowing — yes,  candidly — that  all  my  soul 
Is  touched,  I  know  not  why — 

DAVID 

[fuming  suddenly] 

In  spite  of  talk! 
Why,  it's  your  father,  stuffing  your  brain  with 

words, 
But  deep  beneath,  you — love  me. 

MARGARET 

[tearfully] 

No  more,  David. 

DAVID 

[exultant] 
You  do — you  do — 


THE  PIONEERS  37 

MARGARET 

Novmore,  I'll  hear  no  more. 
We  two  would  be  unhappy. 

DAVID 

But  you  love  me — 

MARGARET 
I — I — what's  that? 

[They  turn,  a  crash  of  bushes;  a  shot, 
and  a  loud  cry  in  the  distance," Who  goes 
there?"] 

DAVID 
My  God,  just  as  I  said,  the  Indians! 

MARGARET 
What's  wrong?  what's  wrong? 

[DAVID  seizes  a  gun  and  starts  forward : 
at  the  same  moment  cries  of  women  in  the 
camp,  crashing  of  underbrush,  and  HOW 
ARD  comes  rushing  in,  musket  in  hand,  fol 
lowed  by  the  others'] 

HOWARD 
[shouting] 
Who  goes  there?     Stand,  or  we  firel 


38  THE  PIONEERS 

A  VOICE 

[huskily] 

Wait! 

[An  Indian ,  covered  with  mud  and  dust, 
staggers  in,  breaking  through  the  crowd  in 
his  speed] 

EAGLE-TALON 

[halting,  hand  on  heart  to  protecJ  himself,  with 
shrill  gasps'] 

White-man's  friend — I — Eagle-Talon — I. 

[Falls  exhausted ;  two  of  the  women  give 
piercing  screams;  the  men  clutch  him  and 
crowd  over  him] 

HOWARD 

[pulling  the  men  off"] 

Make  room!  stand  back!  Quick,  Eagle-Talon, 
speak! 

[A  pause] 

EAGLE-TALON 
[looking  up;  gasping] 
They  come,  the  red  men  come! 
[An  intense  hush] 


THE  PIONEERS  39 

CYNTHIA 

[in  a  shrill  whisper] 

The  Indians! 
[Suppressed  cries'] 

HOWARD 
Tell  me — which  way!  which  way! 

EAGLE-TALON 
[on  one  knee,  gasping,  pointing'] 

They  come 

Out  of  the  blue  hills  on  their  flying  horses, 
Quick  as  the  north  wind — and  their  tomahawks 

flash, 
Their  rifles  glisten. 

[Rises,  speaks  in  guttural  voice,  gestures 
dramatically] 

Last  night  in  the  sand 

They  crouched  around  the  circle  of  the  war- 
dance, 

Chopping  the  earth  and  chanting  the  death- 
chant. 

Under  the  waning  moon  I  saw  the  warriors, 
Naked,   all   daubed  with    paint — and   Eagle- 
Talon 


40  THE  PIONEERS 

He,  white-man's  friend,  he  knew. 
[  Taps  his  chest] 

As  comes  the  dawn, 

He  came:  he  say,  put  bullets  in  your  rifles, 
He  say,  make  fight.     Plenty  of  Indian  comes. 

HOWARD 
How  near,  how  near? 

EAGLE-TALON 
[lifts  his  hands  with  fingers  extended] 

As  close  on  Eagle-Talon 
As  these  few  miles. 

HOWARD 

[turning;  in  a  slow,  masterful  voice] 

Men,  get  your  rifles.     See  the  women  stowed 
Under  the  shelter  of  the  wagons.     Make 
A  breastwork  of  the  horses.    Each  mind  keen, 
Hands  steady  and  hearts  calm.     We'll  meet 

the  foe 
\Yith  all  the  white  man's  might.     Come,  to 

your  work! 

[All  hurry  out,  save  DAVID,  who  de 
tains  MARGARET] 


THE  PIONEERS  41 

DAVID 
Now  that  we  two  may  die,  O  Margaret,  speak. 

MARGARET 

[hastily] 
It  is  too  late. 

DAVID 
One  word,  one  loving  word. 

MARGARET 
[with  rising  voice'] 

David,  go  in  the  fight  like  a  real  man. 

DAVID 

Is  that  all,  Margaret? 

MARGARET 
[bursting  out] 

What,  shall  we  stand 
Back  here  and  talk?    The  men  are  waiting  for 

you. 

Go,  go  at  once.     Face  the  great  terrible  mo 
ment. 
The  time  for  men  has  come. 

[Goes  out] 


42  THE  PIONEERS 


[Re-enter  the  men,  armed.  They  look 
right  and  left,  and  are  about  to  go  out  when 
HOWARD  speaks.  During  the  speech  the 
actions  of  DAVID  are  dramatic — at  first 
listless — then  powerful  ] 

[EAGLE-TALON  disappears] 

HOWARD 
[  gathering  them] 

Draw  near  and  listen:  there  is  breathing  time. 
You,  you,  and  you,  draw  closer;   bring  your 

souls, 

For  I  would  put  a  fire  into  them. 
Men,   now  we  strike  for  all    that  we   have 

sought — 

[As  he  speaks  >  DAVID  begins  to  show  interest} 

Out  of  the  soft  and  easy  East  we  came 
To  found  the  future  in  the  perilous  West. 
Many  will  say  we  took  the  Western  trail 
For  gold — well,   so  we  did;    but  something 

vaster 
Swallows  that  purpose.     We  have  come  for 

life— 
Life  richer,  thicker,  happier,  more  intense — 


THE  PIONEERS  43 

The  life  I  lived  one  morning  I  remember — 

[Breaks  of  as  EAGLE-TALON  enters; 
in  a  quick  whisper] 

Is  there  a  moving  shadow  in  the  moonlight? 

EAGLE-TALON 

No  shadow  steals,  but  Eagle-Talon  sees! 
[Goes^ 

HOWARD 

[repeating] 

The  life  I  lived  one  morning  I  remember — 

[Pauses ;  voice  becomes  melodious,  a 
letting  down  of  the  tension;  he  sends  the 
men  dreaming.  DAVID  half  kneels] 

Upon  that  morning  heaven  was  still  and  blue, 
The  air  had  a  cool  ecstasy,  the  light 
Such  delicate  clearness  that  trees  out  a  mile 
Stood  vivid,  cut  with  shadow,  and  the  river 
Was  a  blue  silence  dropped  between  still  shores, 
The  huddled  grass  was  dewy,  bobolinks 
Drenched  the  cool  orchard  with  a  spray  of  song, 
And  children  wandered  singing  in  the  sun. 
It  seemed  as  if  my  senses  and  my  soul 
Were  bathed  in  the  deep  morning,  for  my  body 


44  THE  PIONEERS 

Was  glad,  my  eyes  exulted,  and  my  ears 
Heard  heavenly  music.     Men  and  women  all 
Gathered,  and  with  spontaneous  unison 
Sang  all  the  morn  out.     That  was  life,  deep- 
lived: 
For  such,  we  search — 

[Goes  on  in  rousing  voice;  DAVID  looks  up] 

We  heard  that  call  of  God 
Which  sounds  down  all  the  ages,  youth's  own 

vision, 
That  cry:  "Arise,  arise,  and  follow  me." 

[DAVID  rises,  his  face  lit  with  new  power] 
[Enter  EAGLE-TALON] 

[HOWARD  speaks  quickly  in  an  aside] 
Sharp,  at  the  first  fleck,  come. 

[Exit  EAGLE-TALON] 

Follow  me  where?     Into  the  fulness  of  life, 
Into  a  richer  world.     There  lies  the  West, 
A  breast  of  Earth  all  fallow  and  unused, 
Where  we  may  build  the  vision  we  have  seen  : 
A  life  that  grows  out  of  the  Earth  like  trees, 
Taking  its  growth  from  the  soil  and  the  sun 
and  the  air. 


45 


A  life  of  comrades  laboring  together, 
Where  many  hands  lighten  for  each  the  task, 
A  life  of  joy  that  springs  from  labor  done, 
Of  song  and  dance  and  natural  festival, 
A  life  where  children  may  fulfil  their  promise — 
O  to  be  out  there!  to  work  with  the  hand  and 

the  brain! 

To  fight  the  Indians  of  the  long  day's  work, 
Our  weapons  plow  and  broom!     To  sleep  be 
neath 

Seen  stars!  to  be  as  free  as  the  veering  winds! 
That  is  our  West,  and  for  such  stakes  we 

fight. 
We  cannot  lose:  we  have  the  future  with  us! 

ALL 
Hurrah!  hurrah! 

[Enfer  EAGLE-TALON] 

EAGLE-TALON 
Many  small  shadows — far  and  far,  great  chief! 

[Goes  out\ 

[By  main  force  of  gesture,  HOWARD 
keeps  the  men  back~\ 


46  THE  PIONEERS 

HOWARD 

Now  these  few  sharp,  terse  words:  let  each  one 

tell: 

Aim  low  and  waste  no  bullets.    Keep  together. 
Back  every  bullet  with  your  heart  and  soul. 
Think  of  our  women,  our  little  children,  our 

West, 

Our  God. 

[Listens] 

Hark!  what  is  that  comes  down  the 
wind? 
Is  it  the  foe? 

[Silence] 

[Enter  EAGLE-TALON] 

EAGLE-TALON 

Their  horses  gallop  and  their  tomahawks  flash: 
They  chant  the  war-cry! 

MANY 

They  come — they  come — they  are  upon  us — 

[Start  to  go.     HOWARD  again  restrains 

them] 

HOWARD 

Then — one  word  more.     We  are  such  friends 
as  never 


THE  PIONEERS  '47 

May  gather  once  again.     In  this  great  hour 
Let  us,  if  need  be,  offer  up  our  lives 
For  one  another,  and  if  death  should  come, 
Know  that  the  way  up  still  is  strewed  with 

death, 
And  we  but  add  ourselves    to    those  great 

millions 

Who  made  it  possible  for  us  to  live: 
Steady,   with    sure    eye,   and    with    burning 

hearts, 
Come!      Answer    their    cries    with    silence! 

Come! 

ALL 
We  come! 

[They  dash  out  after  their  leader] 

[Shots;  in  the  distance  the  shrill,  blood- 
«m//«jgp"Yow-ow-ow!"  of  the  war-cry} 

DAVID 

[aside  to  MARGARET  with  a  great  cry] 
I  go  to  die,  remember  me. 

MARGARET 

Oh,  David, 
I  see  a  hope  for  you. 


48  THE  PIONEERS 

DAVID 

A  hope?    Why  then 
I  go  to  fight  and  win. 

[Rushes  out] 
[MARGARET  is  alone  with  CYNTHIA] 

CYNTHIA 
[panic  stricken} 
Shall  we  stay  here?     Is  it  safe? 

MARGARET 
[hurrying  up  and  down] 

I  hear  the  war-cry. 

Listen!     {Sounds  of  the  war-cry  and  shots} 
I  cannot  stay  here — no — I  cannot — 

CYNTHIA 
It  is  not  safe. 

MARGARET 
[with  a  cry] 

Safe?    Who  wants  safety  now? 
Life  in  itself  is  unsafe;  ends  in  death, 
Or  now  or  then.    What,  while  the  men  fight,  I 
To  stay  behind? 


THE  PIONEERS  49 

CYNTHIA 

[clutching  her  arm,  crying  out] 

You  do  not  mean  to  go? 

MARGARET 
I  must,  I  must. 

CYNTHIA 

But  you — you  cannot  fight — 

MARGARET 

The  woman's  place  is  with  the  man — not  fight? 
Then  I  will  bind  the  wounds.     [Rushes  out. 
CYNTHIA  following] 

[  The  war-cry  heard,  shots  in  many  di 
rections,  going  out  farther  and  farther; 
cries;  the  woods  full  of  battle.  Noise  dies 
in  distance.  A  long  silence'] 


SCENE    II 


SCENE  II 

The  same:  the  Jire  is  low.  Enter,  slowly,  solemnly, 
at  a  dead-march  pace,  their  heads  bowed,  four  of  the 
men,  carrying  a  heavy  dead  load  in  a  blanket.  This 
they  lay  gently  on  the  ground  before  the  Jire.  Features 
of  JOHN  HOWARD  seen  in  blanket.  All  characters 
gather,  look  down,  broken  with  silent  grief;  MARGARET 
has  head  on  CYNTHIA'S  breast. 

[A  deep  pause] 

DAVID 
How  many  dead? 

TOM 
Two  others,  and  our  captain. 

[Siknce] 

\Enter  CHADWICK,  running^   covered 
with  dusty  forehead  bound  up] 

CHADWICK. 

[exultant] 

We  have  run  the  enemy  down  beyond  the  ford. 
The  fight  is  won;  the  fight  is  ours. 
53 


54  THE  PIONEERS 

DAVID 

[holding  up  his  hand] 

Soft! 
Look — here! 

[  They  all  stand  away.    CHADWICK  sees 
the  body] 

CHADWICK 
[starting  forward  ] 

What!     He?     Oh,  God,  why  was  I   spared 
to-night? 

[Sobs,  turns,  puts  his  head  in  his  hands] 

MARGARET 
[staggering  forward] 
My  father! 

\Smks  over  the  body] 
[Silence] 

TOM 

I  saw  him  die.  It  was  when  he  led  out 
On  the  last  sally;  like  the  truest  soldier 
He  fell  face  forward. 

[Silence;  CYNTHIA  lifts  MARGARET  and  leads  her 
away] 


THE  PIONEERS  55 

DAVID 
[stands  over  body,  softly  covers  it  over  with  ends 

of  blanket,  then  speaks} 
Others  he  saved,  himself  he  could  not  save. 

0  spirit  beautiful  and  strong,  O  heart 

Of  the  great  father  who  spread  out  his  wings 
And  gathered  us  under — manliest  man  of  all. 
He  is  dead,  and  we  shall  give  him  to  the  Earth, 
He  is  dead,  and  all  our  hearts  are  buried  with 

him, 
He  is  dead,  but  in  his  death  we  doubly  live. 

[A  pause] 

[DAVID  half-kneels  and  looks  down  at  t he  face] 
John  Howard,  is  it  possible  that  you 
Who  but  two  hours  since  poured  out  your  soul 
Among  us,  have  quite  vanished  from  this  place? 
No,  when  you  fell,  your  spirit  rose  and  swept 
Into  our  souls,  and  there  it  lives  and  works, 
Remaking  us.     How  death  does  clear  men's 

eyes! 
Oh,  now  I  see!     [Rises.]     I  from  henceforth 

take  up 
The  vision  and  the  labor  he  laid  down, 

1  from  henceforth  shall  make  the  young  man's 

quest, 
Blaze  the  long  trail  into  the  sunset  land. 


56  THE  PIONEERS 


No  more  for  me  the  easy  ways  of  life, 
No  more  the  toil  for  self,  the  false  content, 
But  the  large  dangers  of  the  Earth,  the  sweat 
Of  daily  work,  and  charging  all,  the  spirit 
Of  trying  life  out,  the  divine  adventure. 
I  swear  this  hour  to  be  henceforth  his  knight, 
Armed  with  his  faith.     I  swear  it! 

ALL 
We  swear!     We  swear! 

DAVID 

Then  bear  the  body  to  the  naked  plains, 
And  under  the  moon  make  burial.     [Leaning 

again] 

Oh,  John  Howard, 

We  give  you  Godspeed,  and  we  dream  to-night 
You  have  stepped  forth  from  the  poor  body  of 

Earth 

Upon  some  new  adventure  yonder,  yonder, 
In  that  great  West  we  all  shall  shortly  reach. 
Godspeed,    Godspeed!     Our  voices    die    on 

earth: 
The  stars  receive  you.     Bear  the  body  forth ! 

[  They  start  forward  to  take  the  body,  but 
MARGARET  comes  and  half-kneels — speaks 
as  if  she  could  not  speak] 


THE  PIONEERS  57 

MARGARET 

Father,  as  you  would  have  it,  so  I  speak: 
Goodby,  your  daughter  is  enough  like  you, 
To  face  this  hour.    Goodby,  O  noblest  father, 
O  greatest  man  and  comrade — 

[Her  voice  breaks;  she  cannot  continue, 
and  CYNTHIA  again  lifts  her  up.  'The  men 
bear  out  the  body,  and  all  the  others  go,  in 
cluding  CYNTHIA,  who  leaves  DAVID  and 
MARGARET  alone.  A  pause] 

DAVID 
\to  MARGARET] 

His  death  has  been  my  birth.    He  is  my  father 
As  he  is  yours;  and  I  am  a  new  man. 
Believe  me,  Margaret. 

MARGARET 
[yielding] 

I  resist  no  longer. 
David,  my  David! 

DAVID 

Margaret!     [A  pause'] 

Now  in  this  solemn  hour  of  our  lives 


58  THE  PIONEERS 

I  see  the  vision.     Not  of  higher  manhood, 

No,  nor  yet  even  of  higher  womanhood. 

The  vision  is  of  higher  humanhood: 

The  man,  the  woman,  and  the  little  child, 

Humaner,  humaner,  richer  in  all  life. 

We  two  shall  live  that  life  in  one  long  quest, 

Come,  let  us  forth,  forth  to  the  spacious  West. 

[They  go  out,  DAVID'S  arm  about  her. 
As  the  scene  empties  the  speaker  of  the  epi 
logue  slowly  enters,  advances  to  front,  raises 
his  hand,  and  murmurs :  * '  Hush ! "  ] 

[A  pause} 


EPILOGUE 

We  little  human  beings  have  our  day, 
Then  vanish  from  the  Earth.    All  we  to-night 
Shall  soon  be  but  a  memory  in  the  world, 
Our  faces  not  among  those  newer  faces — 
Yet  are  we  deathless.    Even  as  the  great  past 
Lives,  lives  in  us,  each  cell  of  blood  and  brain, 
Each  blend  of  spirit  and  vision  and  large  dream 
Wrought  of  the  mighty  lives  that  went  before, 
So  we  bend  over  the  unborn  beautiful  future, 


THE  PIONEERS  59 

Out  of  our  flesh  create  it,  breathe  in  it 
Our  faiths  and  loves,  and  lo,  when  it  is  born 
Our  spirits  dwell  in  it,  our  faces  shine  in  it! 
So  let  us  now  and  then  turn  to  the  past, 
As  we  have  done  this  day,  and  live  it  over; 
That  we  may  see  the  daring  and  the  faith 
Of  men  and  women,  real  and  live  as  we, 
Who   made   this   land  and  us;    that  we  may 

drink 

Of  their  strong  lives,  that  we  may  recollect 
That  only  a  great  vision  brings  great  deeds, 
That  only  hearts  heroic,  restless  hands 
And  unafraid  spirits  push  the  soul's  frontiers 
Into  a  richer  life:  which  lesson  learnt 
Let  us  build  up  our  brief  and  hurrying  day 
Into  such  greatness  that  in  some  far  hour 
Our  children,  gathered  as  we  gather  now, 
Shall  re-enact  our  history  and  there  find 
New  faith,  new  courage,  and  new  enterprise. 
Hush — for  the  wind   is  murmuring    in   the 

boughs, 
The  night-wind,  and  the  Earth  beneath  our 

feet, 
Our  common  Mother,   gathers    her  children 

close, 
We  comrades,    and   with    hearts   attuned    to 

dreams, 


60  THE  PIONEERS 

We  find  us  strangely  alive  in  a  strange  world. 
Stars  scatter  about  us  climbing  thicker  and 

higher 

Up  to  the  breathless  zenith  and  our  Earth 
Rolls,  on  this  night,  among  them.     O  rich 

Earth, 

Yet  but  a  fringe  on  the  rich  star-filled  skies, 
And  we  but  atoms  riding  on  that  fringe! 
O  mystery!     O  Power  enfolding  us! 
O  Power  within  us !     Somehow  it  is  glorious 
Even  to  ride  this  narrow  fringe  and  be 
As  nothings  in  the  boundlessness  of  night — 
There  is  such  room  for  the  future,  such  vast 

worlds 

Yet  to  be  lived,  such  far  adventures  calling 
Yonder  in  Mars  or  some  hid  planet  dim 
In  the  Milky  Way.     Oh,    let  us  fling  our 

lives 

In  with  God's  life,  and  in  our  little  corner, 
Our  cranny  of  Earth,  make  our  part  of  the 

world 

Deathlessly  great.     So  was  the  Past,  so  be 
Our  living  Present,  and  let  us  remember 
How  we  bright  creatures  came  this  hour  to 
gether, 
Our  hearts    as   one,   and    under  whispering 

boughs 


THE  PIONEERS  61 

Caught  a  brief  glimpse  of  the  divine  white 

light 
That  bares  the  future.     Friends,  Good-night! 

Good-night! 

END 


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